


take it from me

by bluelines



Category: Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domestic, F/F, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 19:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Lesbian bed death is a myth. But also, sometimes it's hard to get her attention, you know?





	take it from me

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I promise I can still write plot. In theory.

Meghan is not in the habit of keeping track of how many times a week they have sex. It’s never been an issue for them--their sex drives are essentially the same--and it’s not an issue now, either. Except that Gillian, who is usually easily distractible, seems too enthralled with her book to pay much attention to Meghan, who has been planning this all day, walking through it in her head, the places she wants to put her hands and her mouth, the places she wants Gillian’s hands and Gillian’s mouth.

She’d used a sugar scrub in the shower. Her skin is practically glowing. She smells amazing. Her wet hair is braided to one side the way she knows Gillian likes it. The t-shirt she chose to sleep in is too short and her sweats are rolled so that they’re hanging low on her hips, low enough that her hipbones are exposed. She’s not wearing anything underneath. And Gillian is still reading her book.

“Gill,” Meghan says, propping her head up on one hand, rolling onto her side to face Gillian.

“Yep,” Gillian says, without looking up. Her reading glasses are slipping down her nose. Meghan could pluck them off of her face and settle into Gillian’s lap, but that would be too easy. Instead she waits for Gillian to realize that she hasn’t said anything else. It doesn’t happen.

Meghan places her hand on Gillian’s stomach, and Gillian shifts so that she can hold the book open with one hand holding it at the bottom, placing her free hand on top of Meghan’s, curling her fingers around Meghan’s palm. Her eyes never leave the page. She leans in to kiss Gillian’s neck, and Gillian makes an appreciative noise, tightening her grip on Meghan’s hand, but that’s all.

Gillian may not be in the mood, but Meghan is. She’s already taken a shower, so it’s not like she can get back in and take care of it. She rolls back onto her back, and Gillian turns the page. Meghan thinks about her plans, the plans she’d made all day, and chews her lips. She wonders if Gillian is distracted enough not to notice if she touches herself and decides to try it.

She slides her hand beneath the waistband of her sweats, and it’s a full thirty seconds before Gillian notices. She’s not doing much yet, just teasing herself, still trying to get Gillian’s attention more than anything else. When Gillian notices, her eyebrows fly up, and she almost drops her book. Almost, but not quite.

“Megs,” she says, and the timbre of her voice is lower than before, enough to make Meghan’s stomach flip

“Yeah,” Meghan says, as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening at all.

Gillian watches her for a few long, lingering seconds, the book half-falling out of her hand. She’s properly distracted now, and the expression on her face while she watches Meghan is more than enough to keep Meghan going. She’s really starting to get worked up by the time Gillian puts down the book and her glasses. She’s expecting Gillian to roll on top of her, already anticipating the long, solid warmth of Gillian’s body against hers, but instead Gillian rolls onto her back and pushes her own hand beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts.

“Fuck,” Meghan mumbles, and Gillian _smirks_ at her. It reminds Meghan of the looks Gillian used to give her on the ice when she did something stupid, when she was offside or took a penalty. The look of someone who knows they’ve been underestimated. Meghan uses her free hand to push her sweats over her hips, and wriggles until she can kick them away, so Gillian can see. Gillian’s smirk dissolves, and she breaks eye contact to watch the hand between Meghan’s legs.

Meghan watches Gillian. They end up finding a sort of rhythm, staying in sync even without touching each other. Gillian eventually slips out of her pants and Meghan gets distracted by how big Gillian’s hand is. She wants to see more, but what she can’t see she can imagine. Gillian’s face has turned a bit pink, and Meghan’s mouth is dry with how badly she wants _more_. There’s nothing stopping her from rolling over and kissing Gillian, biting her neck and her shoulder, but something about this setup is new and exhilarating. Meghan doesn’t move.

“You look so good,” she says instead, and Gillian goes from pink to red. 

“Been thinking about you all day,” she continues, watching Gillian’s chest rise and fall with her breathing as it grows more ragged, “thinking about getting my hands on you.”

Gillian swallows and Meghan watches her throat. She props her feet up on the mattress so that her knees are bent, giving herself a better angle, because if she goes on like this she’s going to get close. If her first one tonight is by her own hand and not Gillian’s, she doesn’t mind. Not like this, not with Gillian next to her, breathing shallowly, barely keeping still.

“Thinking about how good you taste,” Meghan goes on, and Gillian groans, a soft, broken noise that makes Meghan’s hips jerk up against her own hand.

“How much I wanted to get my mouth on you,” Meghan admits.

“Meghan,” Gillian croaks, but she’s far gone by now, far enough gone that Meghan gets to watch while Gillian’s hips thrust up against the heel of her own hand. After so long together Gillian’s shameless now in a way she didn’t used to be, and Meghan gets overwhelmed by that for a moment, by the reality of Gillian being completely comfortable with her, hiding nothing, least of all her desperation.

“Love when you say my name like that,” Meghan admits, and she can hear her own voice cracking, because she’s close, too.

She can’t speak much after that. After a while she can’t even keep her eyes open long enough to watch what Gillian’s doing, but she can feel it in the mattress, the way Gillian’s hips are moving, and she can hear Gillian’s breath. When she’s close, she reaches out blindly with her free hand and finds Gillian’s. Their fingers intertwine, and Meghan squeezes Gillian’s hand so hard that her knuckles hurt. 

“Fuck,” Gillian mumbles, and somehow that’s all it takes to send Meghan over the edge. She doesn’t bother being quiet. She groans, turning her face into her own shoulder, shuddering and twitching. Gillian squeezes her hand again, and then she’s shaking too, gasping but otherwise silent. 

Meghan opens her eyes just so she can see the way Gillian’s upper body arches up off of the mattress. 

“God,” Gillian says, once she can speak again, their hands still loosely linked, both of their legs sprawled bonelessly out on top of the mattress.

“That was new,” Meghan observes.

She rolls onto her side again, and Gillian does the same. Meghan reaches for Gillian’s face, dying to kiss her, but still holding back, more interested in eye contact, for the moment. Gillian finds ways to surprise her, even after years together. Every time she does, Meghan falls harder. She brushes her thumb across Gillian’s lower lip, and Gillian turns her head to kiss the center of Meghan’s palm.

Then she surprises Meghan again.

She takes Meghan’s wrist gently in her hand, so tenderly that Meghan can barely feel the pressure of Gillian’s fingertips against her skin. Gillian, without hesitation, slides Meghan’s index and middle fingers into her mouth. Meghan’s jaw drops, and Gillian makes eye contact with her briefly before she closes her eyes again, pressing the flat of her tongue against Meghan’s fingers, then between them. When she lets go of Meghan’s hand, Meghan can think of nothing to do but to grab Gillian’s face in her hands and drag Gillian in to kiss her.

“You could have just asked,” Gillian murmurs eventually, breaking the kiss.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Meghan asks, and Gillian laughs against her mouth, but she doesn’t argue.


End file.
